


Interrogation Tactics

by ecrituredudesir



Category: Furry (Fandom), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Interrogation, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Torture, Other, Tickle torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-11-03 20:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20564303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecrituredudesir/pseuds/ecrituredudesir
Summary: A work for someone on Furaffinity.Jasmine the Furret leads a small party of soldiers into the forest for a basic border patrol. They're captured, and the enemy forces of the neighboring kingdom are willing to do anything to make them admit they were up to no good.





	Interrogation Tactics

The distant drip of water somewhere had made a repeating pattern, making it easy for Jasmine to lull into thoughts of how she’d gotten in this situation: spread out on the cold stone of a dungeon floor in an unknown location in a foreign country, demoted and dejected. It was hard to think that only four weeks ago she’d been a Captain in the army, living off of the finest spoils that a Furret in her position could attain. Her responsibilities had been few, charged mostly with the training of new recruits and basic duties. Maybe that was why she’d been so comfortable in shirking said duties. 

She could still see the look of fury on the General’s face when he’d stormed her barracks to find out why she hadn’t reported for duty, only to find his own daughter in Jasmine’s bed, with the Furret already more than a little handsy with her, playing what Jasmine jokingly liked to call a little twisting of their tongues. At least, she’d joked about that before her demotion, losing every inch of progress she’d made among the ranks only to catch a swift demotion down to the title of Lance-Corporal. It felt like a kick in the gut, given how low of an officer rank it was, but then the re-stationing had been harder still. 

Gone had been the days of her cushy fort training job. Though the General hadn’t been exactly pleased about the easy seduction of his darling girl (though Jasmine could have gone as far to say that she might have been the one to be seduced with how pretty she was), Jasmine’s neglect of her duty had been inexcusable. The General had been all too happy to tell her that if her training job wasn’t stimulating her attention well enough, they could just as easily hand her a much more complicated, difficult role. Not many people wanted to serve so close to the border with their enemy nation, particularly not in charge of wrangling the more… problematic soldiers among them. 

Jasmine shivered in the ice cold air of her cell, doing her best to focus on anything but the memories of how she’d arrived. Though many of the soldiers wound up being of the troublesome sort, eventually her bright enthusiasm had won many of them over—including the two that had been captured with her. Asperia the Raichu and Marco the Skunky had also been wrapped up in the unfortunately event that landed her in her dungeon cell. 

Though it had been an ordinary drill, a simple patrol along the nigh-uncharted border that separated their kingdom from another, their paths had crossed with a much larger group that bore the colors of the enemy nation. The tension was evident between the two groups immediately, with hasty reaches for their weapons. One of the enemy soldiers immediately accused them of being over the border; though there wasn’t a set warning or fence of any sort, Jasmine was quick to challenge this, suggesting that it was the other soldiers who had crossed the border instead. 

It was hard to tell where the first blow had been thrown from, but the two groups devolved into a quick skirmish. At some point, Jasmine had taken a blow to the head. Her brief memories all but ended there, bringing her back to the full awareness that she had woken up in the icebox cold prison, on her back with her wrists and ankles chained together that she had already tried to tug and pull at repeatedly, finding no give to any of the bindings. 

She wasn’t sure if hours had passed or days by the time her captors approached the cell again, refusing to answer any of the questions she had for them. Instead, they dragged her up a set of stairs, moving to finally bring her into a room that seemed to be the exact polar opposite of the frosty cell she’d been kept in so far. Whether it was the raw amount of fire that was used for a good amount of the devices the room held, or the collective screams and sobs of those suffering within it, the torture chambers was clearly several degrees higher in temperature, enough to make a sheen of sweat break out across the brows of several of the Sableye that took up their work in the torture chambers. She wasn’t given much time to look around, dragged instead to a wide wheel like device. She expected that she might be strapped to the spokes of the wheel, though instead, she found herself strapped on the outer rim of the device, with her arms pulled cruelly backwards and her legs curved around the bottom. Though she was confused as to how the device worked, not seeing any crank or pulley that would pull her limbs from their sockets as she feared, it didn’t take her long to realize that they weren’t finished ‘setting her up’ for her torture. 

Two of the Sableye torturers stepped forward, each holding a part of a device she couldn’t quite see clearly yet. To her humiliation she could feel them brushing forward, groping across her chest in search of something. Her protests started immediately, accusing as she demanded they stop, but they continued on relentlessly until they found her nipples in the thick fur of her chest, making her realize that their furtive search wasn’t for nothing. 

The minute they pressed her fur back away from her nipples, they lifted the little device that she hadn’t been able to see in their hands earlier. As it came within her range of vision, she realized they were metal clamps with sharp, vicious looking little teeth that disappeared soon again as they were brought far too close to her chest for comfort. The flash of pain that followed as the clamps were secured to her nipples made her cry out, her earlier offended protests of their grasping hands all but vanished in the wake of her wordless noises of agony as the teeth of the clamps dug against the tender flesh. 

The minute they let go of the clamps, it grew that much worse. They were both connected to the same chain, and that chain hung heavily against her belly in her upright state, the a weight connected to the chain that dragged the nipple clamps down. The sharp teeth refused to let go, though, and she struggled to try and keep herself silent, her soldier pride keeping her from making too much noise. She didn’t want to give the enemy force the satisfaction of thinking that she’d break easily, but when she intentionally subdued her response, they already seemed to expect it fully.

As they watched her do her best to remain impassive to the pain, her tormentors stepped back, making a gesture to the Sableye who stood near the massive turn crank for the wheel, just out if sight, and with the groan of metal on ancient wood, the machine began to turn. The weight at the end of the chain leaned against her belly as the wheel turned her upwards to to the to the top of the device, taking the pressure off of her chest chest and nipples for a short reprieve, but Jasmine knew it was about to get much worse. It was a brief reprieve though, because when she reached the top, the weight slipped off the top of her chest, instead pulling both nipples hard to the side that the weight had slipped to, with the furthest being the most strained. Her eyes went wide as reactionary tears welled in them, and she bit so hard against her lower lip to try and keep silent to deny her captors her noises of pain that she nearly drew blood. 

She couldn’t hold back an initial noise of surprised pain when she reached the point where she began to turn upside down on the wheel. The weight moved up between the clamps connected to her nipples when she finally became vertical once more, though considering she was upside down, the chain hung across her chest and the weight humiliatingly smacked across her face, landing heavily more than once against her nose as the wheel’s slow motions made it jerk at the end of its chain. She flinched as her chest and nipples pulled ‘upwards’ towards her chin with gravity and the weight both, but there was a momentary nervousness when she realized how close the wheel was to the ground, leaving only about a foot of space between where her body would be and the floor. 

The slow turning continued until she was almost horizontal again, and when the weight hit the floor it was like lightening shocks through each nipple, the vibrations of metal on stone sending shocks of pain through her nipples and chest. It was the worst experience by far, the jolts making her shudder and ache in agony. Here, it was far too much to remain silent; her muffled, agonized groans finally broke free, each breath feeling as if it came with a labored weight of trying to keep her senses and not lose herself to that pain. The Sableye jeered at her as the twists of the wheel continued, dragging the weight along the ground and bouncing it every time she took a breath too deep to let it keep bouncing on the floor. 

Her only relief was when she was rolled back upright again. Though her silence had been broken, the pain was slightly less here. She could feel her nipples, swollen and abused in the clamps, aching for relief. It wouldn’t come for hours. Over and over again, the wheel was rotated; even when one of the Sableyes seemingly reached their limit, another one would take its place, cranking over and over again. It seemed the rotations would never stop, and her world became an agonizing pain of whether or not the weight hanging from her chest was smacking her in her jaw when she was upside down, bouncing on he ground and making her groan louder, the pain the worst in those few moments. At some point she found she could change which side the chain hung from when she was at the top of the wheel by leaning a certain way, but even that didn’t make a big enough impact to make her suffering noticeably less. 

The more her noises of pain slipped from her, the more she succumbed to the other aspects of misery in the torture chamber. By the time she’d started to allow herself to groan openly, unabashedly as she let her sounds of agony slip free, the heat of the room also became noticeably and uncomfortably overwhelming. Her fur had become slick with sweat by then, the droplets of sweat streaming down the tip of her nose every time she was rolled upside down, and down from several points in her body, down her jaw and across her shoulders, dripping from the crook of her knees, and from the very tips of her toes. The room was sweltering and the constant slow grind of her being carried up the wheel to the highest part of the room, where the hot air had gathered at the ceiling only made it worse, leaving her soaked through with sweat every time she was lowered back near the floor once more. 

Finally, after hours of the repeated spins that left her weakly dizzy and drenched with sweat, her chest caught on the uncomfortable edge of still throbbing with pain and numbness from her abuse, the wheel stopped with her upright, staring out as the captors secured the spokesi n place. One of the Sableyes stepped forward, regarding her severely with his glassy, crystalline gaze. She could see no pupil, but judging from the way he almost sneered at her, she knew that she had his attention. “Are you ready to confess to being a spy, searching for information along our border?” He asked.

Panting hard and exhausted, she gave him a hard stare still, her chest rising and falling hard despite the way that made the weight bounce and made the skin under the clamps ache. “We weren’t...” Jasmine paused to take a desperate breath. “We weren’t doing anything wrong. Even if we were on the wrong side of the border, it was an accident. We were just on a normal patrol. You saw our uniforms. We had no reason to cross the border with just the three of us!” Despite her pleads, she didn’t expect to get very far. Given the history of their two nations, she wouldn’t put it past the group that had captured them to just be looking for a bit of sadistic fun in the lull of any actual violence between their homelands.

The Sableye clicked his tongue, moving to make a gesture to someone next to the wall out of her eyesight. In the next few moments, there came the sound of the same door she’d entered through opening, followed by the intense sounds of a scuffle. Asperia came into sight first, the nervous Raichu doing her best to look defiant. Even if they’d only been working together for a couple of weeks, Jasmine had grown to know her well enough to realize that the look in her eyes betrayed her terror. Though she was trying her hardest, Jasmine had no doubt that she’d be easier to break down if it cames to true endurance in the face of their torture. 

Not far off, the other soldier that had been captured with them was putting up much more of a fight. Skunky were often near infamous fighters because of their stubborn determination, and Marco, still considered young and around Jasmine’s own age, was no exception. It was taking four guards to actually keep track of the stubborn soldier, who kicked and lashed out furiously at every opportunity given to him. It did instill some sense of pride in her to see him fighting so hard, admiring his determination if nothing else. 

Still, despite all better attempts, the four guards managed to drag him forward as well. 

In the room, there were two capture devices not unlike stocks—but instead of it only holding a prisoner’s arms and head, this square board had five holes: three like a normal set, and then a little far down, two more for the feet to stick forward as well. The guards managed to secure both the Raichu and Skunky within these, keeping them at an uncomfortable angle bent in half, with neither able to move or pull back from their bindings. Jasmine could only watch on helplessly as they faced the stocks to her, and from the side, someone brought in a small box.

In her exhausted haze from the hours of torture, Jasmine had no idea what to expect from the seemingly innocuous cardboard. Then she heard the noise starting to come from it. It was faint at first, but then the subtle sounds of mewling could be heard as they moved to open the box. Another Sableye approached from the other side, with a jug of fresh, white milk, which they used to get the attention of the kittens stumbling out of the boxes. The three were apprehensive and confused at first, until the jug of milk was sloshed against the Raichu and the Skunky’s bare feet, making Asperia nearly yelp at the chill of it. Immediately, the kittens advanced, entranced at the scent as their tiny pink, rough tongues began to lap at her lower paws, which were unfortunately extremely sensitive. While Marco could hold off for a little longer, his feet a little rougher, but Asperia was at an immediate disadvantage. 

As the kittens set in on them both, their tongues making smooth little trails across the bottoms of the prisoner’s feet, Aspera cracked first. Squirming hard in the bindings, her eyes went wide as a burst of laughter so hard that it winded her slipped free. 

“No- nono-!” She started, unable to properly speak or protest in the peals of laughter that made her head shake from side to side in the stocks. Her paws were large, given her species, and the kittens had plenty of room to work with as the cold milk trickling down her skin didn’t make it any easier. The mewls had died down in favor of the small creatures focusing on the task at hand, and the poor soldier couldn’t help but squeal and writhe. Though Marco was managing to hold up a little better, Asperia’s laughter was slipping into the downright hysterical, unable to focus on anything other than the sensation making her limbs shake. 

At her side, Marco’s silence was persevering, barely, as his fists clenched so tightly that it nearly dug his claws into his paws. Considering his own paw pads had that extra roughness, he wasn’t under the immediate duress that his fellow soldier was under. His jaw was clenched, his eyes closed tightly as he grit his teeth together. Given Asperia’s unfortunate easy vulnerability to the matter, though, the torturers realized that they were onto an effective method, and continued to dribble milk across his paw pads. This attracted a few more kittens off of Asperia’s, and though it didn’t make it any easier on the Rachu, it did manage to make it considerably harder on Marco. 

Finally, he cracked as well, and his short, agonized laughter also started to slip free. There seemed to be no end to the punishment; when one kitten tired or became full, they would bring an equally ferociously hungry one out to resume the torment. As Jasmine watched on as her soldiers were tortured, helpless to intervene or stop in their torment, she became gradually just as aware of how vulnerable she was. It sparked a fear that wouldn’t have been there had she not just spent so many hours spinning on the slow, painful wheel. 

Soon enough, her fears were realized; several of the Sableye stepped forward. Their hands were empty this time, but they needed no tools or utensils for this. Their fingers set about her body, seeking out the same weaknesses that they had used the kittens to find on her ‘co-conspirators.’ They had stripped her of her armor for her torture, and every inch of her was vulnerable and exposed. 

Their fingers wandered across her belly first, and Jasmine found herself almost more ticklish than Asperia was. Her stomach clenched as she squirmed against the bonds keeping her to the wheel while they wriggled their spindly fingers over her stomach, gravitating up towards her armpits after her belly seemed to lessen in its effectiveness. The Sableye would focus one area, hastily moving on to another when her laughter seemed to lessen. They tormented their wiggling fingers up to her armpits, then down the scope of her sides, making it almost impossible to breathe in anything other than short gasps as her tears welled sharply into her eyes. 

“No- pff haha- no wait- Hah! Haha-” Her laughter made it impossible to get in much of a word edgewise, and her attention was now far diverted from her suffering friends. Their fingers wandered down her sides to tease the back of her knees and the inside of her thighs, until several of them crowded in around her to focus all areas at once. There were so many working together that it was hard to see past them to the other soldiers, but slowly, they could tell that each of them was coming closer and closer to breaking. Finally, it was Jasmine that cracked, both unable to bear the tickle torture once more, and pained at seeing the other soldiers suffering as well.

“Haa- haha!! I’ll confess! Okay, pffhaha-” At the words, the Sableye looked between one another, and pulled back. They gently corralled the kittens away from the stocks, leaving all of them panting hard and lightheaded. 

“What were you doing past the border?” One of them questioned, staring at them intently with narrowed eyes. Jasmine hung her head, knowing that she was preparing to lie, but at that point all of them were desperate for relief before they started cracking under the torture. 

Breathing hard for a moment, she struggled for words, flinching away as a few hands lifted as if they might start tickling her again. “We were.. looking into the defenses on the borders. We were spying.” Her gasps for air still interrupted the fake-confession, but she looked up to the others for some semblance of back up, knowing that it was the only way to save all three of them. Exhausted but catching the look, Asperia nodded in agreement.

“She’s right, we were spying. Just to get information on any nearby settlements or anything. We weren’t trying to cause any trouble,” she added, hoping that their makeshift confession would keep them away from the butchers block. Marco, confused at best, nodded along with wordless agreement, not trusting himself to make something up on the fly without ruining their plan. Still, the Sableyes seemed satisfied this explanation, and before any of them could question further what would happen to them, they were freed from their bindings. 

Everything seemed to happen in a rush. They were dressed again, but just as soon as they tried to figure out what was happening, each of them were bound once more, with their hands tied behind their backs and their head covered in dark burlap bags. Even Marco was too tired to fight against them, and they could only judge that they had been taken from whatever fortress they’d been held in by the sound of nature around them. They were shoved up onto some sort of cart, carried a good distance while they pressed against one another, silenced by a few smacks whenever they tried to speak. 

They had no idea how long the cart ride went on for, but eventually they were pulled form it, nudged on hard by soldiers as they were forced to walk instead. None of them knew where they were going, or where they were being held, but given their confession, they could only imagine they were being lead off for some hidden, political execution. After their long walk, without warning, each of them were pushed hard to the ground by their escorts behind them. 

The three curled against one another, shaking in their collective terror. It was clear they were expecting that their demise would come soon, whether it was in the form of an executioner’s axe or some other terrible fate. They could feel one another, their shared fear almost palpitate. However, the longer they say there, waiting for a blade to fall, the longer time seemed to go by in which nothing happened. The bags and their shaking bodies kept them from hearing anything—including if their captors were retrieving weapons or had left. They didn’t dare say a word less they anger the foreign troops, not wanting to push their already haphazard, unfortunate luck. 

The next thing they knew, there were slow, gentle hands working on making them sit up, untying the bindings that had left them prone on the ground for so long that their arms felt numb by the time their bonds were untied. Slowly but surely, a group worked off their still tightly-bound sacks keeping them from seeing anything, and to the relief of the group, it was their own soldiers who had found them. Undoubtedly they had been reported missing, and none of them had any frame of reference for how long they’d been gone. 

What mattered was the fact that they seemed to be back home; the forest was familiar here, she’d seen it on patrols for the last two weeks before their capture. The enemy had deposited them back close to their outpost; killing them would have likely drawn more trouble than it was worth. Jasmine choked on the relief that welled up quickly in her chest, and before she knew it she had pulled close to the soldier who’d pulled off her bag. The poor scout seemed more confused than anything else, but he stayed still there for a long time just allowing Jasmine to sob into his shoulder in her relief.


End file.
